Line in the Sand
by writingmom
Summary: Harm and Mac on an assignment that forces them to examine their true feelings for one another. FIN!
1. Chapter 1

This is light on plot, and set in my own little universe. Mac and Mic were not engaged, Harm didn't take a dip in the Atlantic, there is no Renee, Mattie or Paraguay.

* * *

"Harm, I mean it. Not now." She grumbled as they left the courtroom.

"Then when, Mac? Don't you think we should at least be on speaking terms before we leave?"

Mac stopped in her tracks. "Well I don't know, Harm, from what I gather, it's not all together unusual for married couples not to speak." She let out a sigh and headed determinedly to her office where she closed the door, thankful for the silence.

It was after dinner when he called. She knew that they would have to discuss the assignment, but it was going to be difficult. She and Mic didn't work out and while she wasn't sorry to see him go, she missed the company. It was nice to have someone to do things with. And then there was Harm. Clearly bothered by her involvement with Mic, he had gone beyond what was acceptable in the way of rude comments. At first they were under his breath, and then in her office, and then in the bullpen. And the most recent, the worst of all.

"Anyone that's ever been involved with Mac is either dead or feels like they are," she heard him say to Sturgis.

She had never been more hurt. It wounded her in ways she didn't think possible. She could see the remorse all over his face, but knowing Harm, it was more about getting caught than anything else. This man was a mystery, and she was beginning to get tired of playing his games. If he didn't want her with Mic or any other man, why couldn't he just admit it? In typical Rabb fashion, he expected her to read his mind, to make the first move. Well it wasn't going to happen. Not now. Not after the ways that he had hurt her.

After the fourth ring, she decided to pick up.

"Hello," she said without her usual friendly tone.

"Mac, I—listen, I'm in the area and wondered if I could come by."

"Why?" She was in no mood to accommodate him.

"Well…"

To apologize? To grovel? She thought to herself.

"I have the file that Webb left, for starters. Don't you think that we should look it over before our flight tomorrow?"

"Go ahead." Of course, now he's all about work, she thought. Mic is gone and now he's back to being big brother, friend, coworker. "You can leave it on my desk in the morning."

"Mac, listen, it's not just the file. I mean, don't you think that we should talk?"

"I don't know what there is to say, Harm. Frankly, you've done enough talking for the both of us lately."

He clenched the steering wheel and softly banged his head against the leather seat behind him. He had offended her before. But this was different. She was hurt, and all because of his big mouth. Getting back in her good graces would take more than pizza and a movie. In fact, he wasn't sure that this time, the damage could be repaired.

"Mac, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

"Harm, I'm not going there. We have an assignment to prepare for. I will be professional just as they expect. Beyond that, there's nothing else for us to discuss."

"But what about our cover, don't you think that we should—"

"Make any notes that you want to and leave them in the file. I'll see you at the airport tomorrow. Bye."

He stared at the now silent cell phone in his hand. "Damn." Driving away from Georgetown, a knot of worry formed in his stomach. He felt like he was losing her and the thought made him sick.

One silver lining remained, and that was the fact that for the next 10 days, Sarah Mackenzie would be by his side. Webb's mission didn't sound so asinine, now. He couldn't wait to get packed.


	2. Chapter 2

Mac smirked to herself as she read through the papers that Harm had left in the file. "He's got to be kidding." She shook her head, closed the file and secured her office.

As if on cue, Harm appeared and followed her toward the elevator.

"Well?" He seemed eager.

"Well, what?"

"Well, what did you think of my notes?"

"Harm, I expected a post-it or two. Not a novel."

"Mac, details are going to be important, don't you think? I mean, we have to be convincing," he explained.

"Sure. Details." She pushed the button for the elevator and tried to force a smile. The next ten days would not be easy. She needed distance from him, time to sort through her emotions and to try to gain some clarity about where they stood. Instead, she was going to be playing his wife, of all things. So much for distance.

As they entered the elevator, he looked at her tentatively.

"You know that we need to drive to the chapel together."

"Chapel? I thought it was the courthouse!"

"Change in plans." He raised his eyebrows, and waited for her to step out of the elevator. "Pick you up in an hour?"

She let out another long sigh. "Sure."

**********************************

As she looked at the dress hanging on her door, she couldn't help but wonder if this faux wedding would be as close as she ever got. It was a nice dress, delivered by Webb of all people when he gave them the assignment. But the chapel was a development that she did not expect. Were there going to be flowers and a photographer, too? She laughed at the thought.

She tried to put a little bit of effort into the way that she styled her hair, but was finding it difficult to care. As she fastened the backing on her earring, she stopped to stare at the woman in the mirror. Mic had talked about marriage. Should she have listened? What if he was as right as anyone could ever be? What if being happy in the future meant settling for a little less than perfect right now? Funny, she always assumed that Harm was the one. She didn't know how or when, but from the moment they met, she felt something in the back of her mind telling her that he was the one true match for her.

"Yeah, right Mackenzie." She muttered to herself before applying the final coat of lip gloss.

The knock on the door signaled that it was time. She opened the door allowing Harm to step in and then immediately retreated to her room. "Just a second, let me grab my bags."

He followed her into her room. "Here, let me give you a hand with th—"

When she turned to face him, he could see the dress in its entirety. It caught him off guard. It was champagne colored and silk, with beading all over the bodice and two silk straps resting perfectly on her shoulders. It was not a formal dress, but not a casual dress to be worn to dinner, either. It looked like it was made for her and the color of the fabric made her skin glow.

"Mac, you look…stunning."

Surprised at his reaction, she tried to minimize the compliment by focusing on what came next.

"Thanks. Guess we should get going."

She tried to ignore the fact that he was wearing a beige colored suit, vest and cream silk tie that made him look like he stepped off of the cover of GQ. As they made their way to the door, she stopped to turn off the lamp in the corner. It was a good excuse to gain some distance from the cologne that was about to make her go weak in the knees.

When she turned to leave, she found him standing close behind. He set her bags down at his feet, and gently reached for her elbow, looking down at his shoes.

"Mac, I know that you're not looking forward to this at all, but please, can we try to call a truce?"

"Harm, I told you that I would be professional. Once we get there, it will click. I promise. It's just…I'm not…"

"I know. It's hard to imagine you and me as anything more than friends."

She inwardly cringed at his words, assuming that he was speaking for himself. The aching that he felt inside was hidden well. She never knew that it was taking every ounce of strength that he had not to pull her into his arms.

When they arrived at the chapel, she was in awe. Gardenias sat in large vases on the steps and candles lit the aisle. Two enormous ferns sat off to the side of the podium. It was simple, yet elegant, and eerily similar to what she had always envisioned her own wedding to be like. Chaplain Turner met them at the end of the aisle.

"Good afternoon." He smiled.

"Reverend Turner, thank you for meeting us here, under these unusual circumstances."

He looked at them, puzzled. "There's nothing unusual about love."

Harm let out a nervous laugh. "I guess when Bud and Harriet get here, we can begin."

"Sure thing." The Reverend replied. "I have to return a phone call. I'll be back in a few minutes and then we can begin."

Suddenly, her nerves were coming to life. Mac felt uneasy, and ill-prepared for the formality that this little wedding seemed to bring. She assumed that it would be a quick trip to the courthouse, a smile with the clerk for a photo and then off to the airport. Her emotions began to swirl.

Harm could see the uneasiness on her face.

"Mac, here, why don't we sit down?" He guided her to the small pew behind.

She smiled nervously, and rubbed the back of her neck. "Wow, this is uh…not what I expected. Webb really goes all out. I guess I didn't think our cover would be this important."

Harm just smiled. He found it difficult not to stare, but then he remembered.

"Oh Mac, listen before I forget," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, and removed a silver antique diamond ring. "this is for you."

He lifted her left hand and slid the ring onto her finger as she watched in amazement.

"It's beautiful. I'm surprised, Webb thought of everything. Didn't think a spook would be so detailed. Must have had some help from Laurie June." She held her hand out to stare at the ring.

Harm started to comment when they heard the back door open.

"Did someone say my name?"

"Laurie June, hi." They stood to greet her.

"Before I forget, here are your plane tickets and your passports. I believe that Webb already gave you the file?"

They nodded.

"Great. Well, it looks like we're all set, then. I'll just take a few pictures and then you'll be on your way. Webb will be in touch once you arrive and I'll have the pictures sent in an album to your room."

After Bud and Harriet arrived and the obligatory wisecracks were made, Chaplain Turner gathered them down front and told them each where to stand. He lifted Mac's hand and placed it gently in the crook of Harm's elbow, and then smiled.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…"

Mac was more than a little confused. Was he going to go through the whole speech? She smiled and looked up at Harm as if to silently question what was going on. He smiled in return, patted her hand, and turned back to face the Reverend.

It seemed that no one had the heart to interrupt him. Mac couldn't believe that this was actually happening. She kept waiting for him to say, "Blah, blah, blah, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Instead, she found herself facing Harm and placing both of her hands in his. Before she knew it, they had both repeated vows that were actually more original and genuine than any she had ever heard.

Laurie June took photos at every turn, and when it came time for Harm to slide the wedding band onto her finger, she could have sworn that he was a little flustered. Harm as a groom, even a pretend one, was probably causing him to sweat.

He looked straight into her eyes as he repeated the final words that the Reverend had spoken before. Mac had never seen him look at her that way before. For a brief moment, she felt like a real bride, in love and overcome with emotion. She felt the ring slide slowly onto her finger, as Harm gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"It is with great pleasure that I introduce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Harmon Rabb Jr. You may now kiss your bride."

Mac didn't have time to correct him. Laurie June stood inches away with the camera, waiting for the one photo that would indeed make a wedding album complete. Harm didn't seem fazed by the fact that they were about to kiss, or that they were being photographed, or that the Reverend must have forgotten their aliases. Instead he stared right into her soul, leaned down slowly and cupped her face in his hands. Their lips met in a gentle and not so brief kiss that made Mac forget her own name.

When they parted, he placed another kiss on her forehead and pulled her into a hug. Bud and Harriet smiled, and Laurie June took one last photo.

"I need to get these printed, and you have a plane to catch. I'll let Webb know that you're on your way." She smiled, and was out the door.

Harriet and Mac began to discuss the décor and the bizarre end to an already crazy week at JAG.

"Uh, Mac, I hate to break up the party, but we have a plane to catch," Harm said.

"Right." She smiled, still unsure what had just transpired. "Thank you again." She smiled at Reverend Turner, who shook their hands goodbye.

"See you soon." She waved to Harriet and Bud.

Harm placed his hand on the small of her back where it remained until they stepped outside. She stopped and looked around. "I was half expecting a crowd to throw rice at us."

Harm laughed. "No crowd, Mac. This time it's just you and me." He held out his arm for her to grasp. "Shall we?"


	3. Chapter 3

She noticed that he was touching her a lot. Simple gestures, like the hand on her back, or guiding her by the elbow, or just a brush of their hands. Walking through the airport dressed more formal than most was probably the reason. With Harm, there was usually a reason, but trying to figure him out had been the cause of too many headaches. He was getting in to character, she told herself, and tried to shrug it off.

As they settled in to their seats on the plane, he was again unusually helpful, asking if she was comfortable, if she needed a blanket…he was a very doting husband. She tried not to let her mind go there, to wonder if this is what he would really be like, if he was this way in all of his relationships or if it was part of the charade.

She pulled out the file from her carry-on bag and began leafing through the pages.

"So what did you think?" he asked.

"Not too complicated, I guess, although I still don't see why the Company needed us to help them track down a weapons dealer."

"_Alleged_ weapons dealer." He corrected her with a smile. "Remember, diamond trade is their cover. And who knows, with Webb in charge, there could be drugs and missiles involved, too. We should be prepared for anything."

"Or nothing," she muttered to herself.

"What?"

"I just think this is an open and shut case. You are in the export business, we're there on a honeymoon-slash-business trip, you meet up with Senor Sanchez, see what he has to offer, we schmooze with him over dinner, meet the wife and then we're done. I don't understand why we had to do the whole wedding thing or why we needed to block off 10 days for this trip."

"Sarah Mackenzie, we're going to Puerto Rico, of all places. Call me crazy, but 10 days in that climate is better than November in DC. Can't we try to relax? Have some fun?"

She rolled her eyes. It was easy for him to say. He wasn't the one walking around with a wounded ego from a cutting remark made by his best friend. A remark that more importantly, may have been true.

She had lots of time to think about his choice of words. Was he serious? Is that what he really thought of her? And his opinions aside, was it true? Chris and Dalton were dead. Mic left the country. She hadn't really dated much because she was so focused on her career and turning her life around. It was not a good track record.

"Mac, did you hear me?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"The notes. The ones I wrote. What did you think?"

She tried hard not to smile. "I think, Harmon Rabb, that you have a very active imagination."

"What, Webb said that we could fill in the blanks and you didn't seem too interested in looking at the file, so I may have taken a few liberties. And for the record, it's Jack. I think we should start calling each other by our married names."

"Fine. _Jack. _But don't expect me to go by those nicknames. That's ridiculous."

He couldn't help but laugh. "I knew you'd love those."

She rolled her eyes again. "So we met at a conference in Virginia, I was otherwise engaged, you swept me off of my feet and we've been madly in love ever since. Ever the Romeo..."

"What? You don't look so bad yourself. You're an accomplished director of a non-profit. At least I didn't make you a—"

"A what?" she folded her arms in curiosity.

"I don't know, a…a waitress or something."

"Oh, but why not? What woman on this great green earth could ever resist your charms? Waitress, teacher, astronaut, congresswoman…" she was being sarcastic.

"Well, you seem to have done quite well." It was almost under his breath, but loud enough for her to hear.

There was an awkward pause.

"If telling our co-worker that anyone that gets close to me feels like a corpse is your way of charming me, then I guess I am in a league all of my own."

"Wait a minute, we need to talk about that once and for all. I did not mean—"

"You know what? Let's not." She pulled the thin dark blanket up over her shoulders and looked out the window.

He wanted to continue the discussion, but knew that it was best not to push. Not when she was hurt. He stretched his legs as much as he possibly good, loosened his tie and leaned back for a very long, and uncomfortable flight.


	4. Chapter 4

Remember, light on plot! Slow and steady…we're getting there.

* * *

Harm reached into his pocket to tip the cab driver as he held the cell phone gently between his shoulder and chin.

"Right. Uh-huh. I guess, I mean, doesn't that seem strange? Mmm-hmm. Mmm-hmm. We'll do. All right. Bye."

He handed some money to the driver and turned to Mac who was waiting on the curb. As the bellboy approached them to load their luggage, Harm stepped up and pulled her into a tight embrace. She hugged him back, unsure of what was happening. He buried his head into her ear as if he were giving her a playful kiss, and then whispered.

"Webb said that Senor Sanchez is staying here also. We have to be 'on' at all times." He finished the statement with a kiss on her neck and then forehead, and then turned to face the bellhop.

"Just married." He smiled.

"I see. Congratulations."

They hugged again for good measure and followed him into the lobby where a flurry of activity was taking place.

He held her hand while waiting in line to check-in, and rested his hand gently on her hip as they waited for their room keys. It was definitely something that Mac could get used to, having him so close and so attentive all of the time. She hoped that this little assignment didn't cause her even more grief or confusion where he was concerned. It would definitely be difficult to remain focused.

"Suite 357, Mr. and Mrs. Stanton. You'll go up the elevators to the left, and your room is at the end of the hall to your right. Enjoy your stay."

"Thank you." They smiled again, and moved through the family of six to the back of the elevator where they comfortably huddled in the corner. Again his arm was around her holding her protectively to him, but not too tight. The sensation of his touch was beginning to make the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Every now and then she caught his thumb gently moving up and down on her skin.

She had been more cautious with her touch, only responding when necessary. But that was likely to change, especially when they met Senor Sanchez.

"I can't wait to get out of this dress," she said without thinking. It had been a long flight in a dress that wasn't made for traveling.

The young boy in front of her turned around to stare. He looked her up and down, delivering a big smile before his mother pulled him out of the elevator.

"I think you had an admirer."

"He's a little young, thank you."

"That, and you're taken."

For the life of her she could not figure this man out. The last comment didn't seem like his usual joke at all. She didn't know how to respond, so instead said nothing.

He led her down the hallway and to their room. "Shall I carry you over the threshold?"

"That won't be necessary," she hoped he was joking this time. She certainly didn't feel like a giddy newlywed after an afternoon in airports and taxicabs.

"Wow. Look at this view!" She kicked off her shoes and headed to the large sliding doors to look out over the ocean. "This is amazing."

Harm removed his tie and threw it on the back of the chair before joining her on the balcony. "See, Marine? Definitely better than DC right now."

The knock at the door signaled that their luggage had arrived.

"Good," she said as she took her suitcase off of the cart in search of more comfortable clothing.

Harm again handed out a tip and then closed the door behind the bellhop.

She grabbed some clothes and made her way into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly cracked. "What are we supposed to do next?"

"Wait, I guess." Harm replied, removing his suit coat and unbuttoning the top three buttons of his shirt. He grabbed a two bottles of water from the minibar and went out to the balcony to sit.

Mac was pulling her hair into a messy bun when she came out to join him.

"Thanks," she took the other bottle of water from him and sat down.

"You look…comfortable." He was trying not to ogle her, but the gray, cotton shorts and the layered ribbed tanks were showing more skin that he had seen in a very long time.

"I am. Very." She took a drink of water and propped her feet up on the railing of the balcony before leaning her head back and closing her eyes. "You're right. Definitely beats cold and windy."

"So what else did Webb say?" she continued talking with her eyes closed.

"Not much. Just that Sanchez was having some renovations done to his house and would be staying here as well. We probably won't hear from him until tonight."

"Are we going to meet up with Webb?"

"I hope not," Harm muttered.

She turned her head to face him and opened one eye, covering her face with her hand to shield the setting sun. "You really can't stand him, can you?" She smiled a little.

"Why, can you?"

"Well he's not my favorite person in the world, but I don't despise him, I guess."

"He certainly doesn't despise you." Harm took a long drink of water, as if to wash away his last comment.

She sat straight up in her chair. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh come on, Mac. The guy has a thing for you. You knew that."

"No, Harm, I don't know that. What makes you think that Webb has feelings for me? We never see the man."

"Mac, it's no coincidence that he asks you to go along with him on all of these assignments."

"Then how do you explain the fact that you come along, too?"

"I think he'd prefer that I stay home, to tell you the truth."

She laughed. "Right. So he could have me all to himself. Whatever, Harm."

"It's like I've told you before, Mac, no man is interested in being friends with a woman like you." The words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to think. Damn. This was becoming a bad habit.

"Except for you, remember?" She countered.

"You think it's easy for me?"

"You haven't had any problems for the last 7 years. It's like I've told _you_. You think of me as a sister."

"Mac, that is the—"

The cell phone rang just as he was about to respond.

"Stanton," he spoke into the phone. "Okay. Right." He looked at his watch. "We'll be there."

He flipped his cell phone shut and looked at his watch again. "Dinner. One hour."

Mac stood and walked back into the room. "Time to shower and change."

He let out a long sigh. Mac showering in the next room... if he _had_ a sister, he certainly wouldn't be thinking about her like that. If self-control came in a tank like gas, he was sure that it would only be a matter of hours before he was running on empty.


	5. Chapter 5

He couldn't help but notice that her suitcase was open, revealing what seemed to be an assortment of swim suits that if tied together, would likely not constitute enough material to cover a pillow. He lifted a blue top and held it up out of sheer curiosity and groaned.

"I'll never make it," he said to himself.

When he heard the shower water shut off, he threw it back in the suitcase and began looking for his own change of clothes. Dinner would be casual, but he still wanted to look nice. In the past, his usual Rabb charm would have worked by now. But she wasn't just any woman. He wanted more than the after-effects of charm, and the fact that he was already starting out on the wrong foot only made his course more challenging.

Were he honest, he didn't really know what he wanted. A wife, kids, the whole nine yards? Probably. After seeing her with Mic, he knew he couldn't take watching her start a relationship with anyone else. And this was his chance to redeem himself. Playing house with her was the opportunity of a lifetime. He had every intention of using their time together to make her see him for more than the sharp-tongued, womanizing cad that she seemed to perceive.

"It's all yours," she said as she emerged from the bathroom.

Once again he was speechless, and his response was not lost on her.

She was reaching behind her neck to tie the halter portion of her dress, and couldn't help but smile to herself. "I'll be on the patio whenever you're ready." She smoothed the front of the black dress and walked past him to take a seat.

As she walked by, he caught a glimpse at the back of the dress in the mirror. Her back was completely exposed. No material showed except for the top of the skirting, which was way lower than he felt was necessary to maintain his sanity. He leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. "Why? Why, why, why?"

When he finally emerged, she was likewise impressed. He wore tan linen pants and a black linen button-up shirt. He smelled fabulous once again, and she hated that he knew the effect that he had on women.

Minimizing her approval, she said, "How cute. We match."

She grabbed her sandals and purse and they headed out the door.

As predicted, his fingers gently rested on her back, guiding her in and out of doors and crowds as he had done before. Only this time, it was skin to skin contact, and he thought that his fingers may very well catch on fire.

"Will Webb be meeting us?" She asked.

"Probably at some point. He is our link to Sanchez, but I'm not sure how well they know each other, or if they've met yet. Hopefully this won't take long."

"It won't." She replied.

"How do you know?" He raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Because if you'll remember, this is our wedding night. What couple wants to have a dinner about business on the first night of their honeymoon? There's a big red flag right there."

"You're right. I'd forgotten." He smiled, pleased that she was at least beginning to warm to the idea of the game. "In that case, let's keep it to drinks and be on our way." He waggled his eyebrows.

A man in a white suit stood to greet them from his table. "Mr. Stanton, I presume?" He extended his hand to greet them.

"Yes, Jack Stanton, and this is my wife Sarah."

Mac smiled and shook his hand.

"I did not know that your wife would be joining us. I hope that we do not bore her."

As Mac sat down and placed the napkin on her lap, she was thankful that Harm took the lead.

"Well, Mr. Sanchez, as odd as this may sound, we just got in this afternoon, and we happen to be on our honeymoon."

"Ahh…Mr. Clayton told me that this was business and pleasure for you, but I did not know about a wedding. You have my congratulations."

"Thank you," Harm smiled, "but if it's all the same to you, our meeting may have to be brief. It's a wonder I got her to let me leave the room." Harm grinned, deciding to have a little fun. He picked up his glass of water to take a drink, when he felt Mac's hand suddenly move to his inner thigh.

"It's okay, dear, you seemed like you could use a break." She winked at him and he immediately choked on his water.

"Two can play at this game," she thought to herself.

Mr. Sanchez seemed oblivious to the interaction between them, and reached across the table to take her left hand in his. "May I?'

Examining the ring, he seemed a bit perplexed. "It's very…pretty."

"It's an antique," Harm chimed in once she removed her hand from his thigh.

Mac was confused. Had Webb told him to say that? She didn't know anything about the ring, and suddenly felt ill-prepared as they sat in the presence of a diamond dealer. She would have thought that the Company would have provided some big, gaudy rock that had been pried off of one of their subjects, but was again thankful when Harm spoke up to respond.

Dinner was fairly uneventful, with Harm doing most of the talking. Sanchez seemed guarded, but not uninterested. He seemed to have a real passion for diamonds, with many stories to tell. Mac thought that he seemed genuine, and not bizarre or suspicious as she would have first assumed.

Every once in awhile she reached up to rub her fingers along the back of Harm's neck, just below his hairline. She could tell that it made him uncomfortable, which is precisely her goal. Maybe seeking a little playful revenge for his comment about her love life was just the medicine that she needed.

She propped her chin in her hand and stared directly at him for several minutes, never taking her eyes off of him. It appeared that she was mesmerized by everything that he had to say. It almost made her laugh, the thought of Harm sitting there, helpless and completely at her mercy in front of a total stranger.

The more bored she felt, the more she stepped up her assault. At one point she took his right hand in hers, and laid it on her lap, gently stroking each finger with the tips of her own. He squeezed her hands in silent communication, but she wasn't about to give up. She lifted his hand to her mouth, and placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles. She could have sworn that his hand was beginning to sweat.

Before Sanchez could begin another story, Harm decided that he'd had enough.

"Well, it's been nice talking with you. I would definitely like to take a look around your showroom sometime. Will you be in town all week?"

"Yes, as Mr. Clayton may have told you, my house is being renovated, so I am staying here as well. I will be in touch. Maybe Mr. Clayton would like to join us." He smiled.

"That would be great," Harm stood quickly and shook his hand. "Thanks. We'll talk to you soon. Sarah?" He looked at her like a lost puppy in need of help.

She took a long, exaggerated last drink of her water before standing. "Mr. Sanchez, it was a pleasure." She smiled, drawing out her words in an obvious stall technique. This really was a lot of fun.

When they finally out of sight, she couldn't help but laugh. "In a hurry to leave, there Sailor?"

Harm was yet to see the humor. "Mac, what the hell were you trying to do to me?"

"What? You're the one that started it with that, 'I'm so fabulous in bed, how could she let me leave' comment. I was just following your lead."

"That is not what I said. And besides, I think you went a little beyond the call of duty."

"You don't think newlyweds can't keep their hands off of each other?"

"Of course they can't, Mac, which is precisely why this is so damned—" he stopped himself.

"What? What were you going to say?"

"Nothing." He said as he pressed the button to the elevator. "Never mind." He had to admit, she was good. And to think that he had worried about her lack of involvement in this charade? It was going to be a very long week.


	6. Chapter 6

Wowee, wow, wow! Such nice reviews. Thank you. This is a fun story. As usual, I don't rest until it's complete, so this chapter was churned out at an unreasonably early hour. All mistakes are mine.

* * *

They entered the hotel room somewhat quietly. The issue of sleeping arrangements had yet to be discussed, and both were dreading it. Harm set the room key on the nightstand and looked at Mac.

"What did you think of Sanchez?" He said, sitting on the far end of the couch.

"I'm not sure. I was too busy messing with you." She smiled a half smile.

"So I noticed." He replied, not amused. "I'm not sure what to think. I guess we'll have to meet up with him again soon to get a behind the scenes look."

"We?"

"Yeah, why, you don't think you should go along?"

"I don't know. He didn't seem too thrilled about my being at the first meeting."

"Well, I'm sure he understood. It was our wedding night after all."

Mac smirked, and couldn't help but get lost in thought. She grabbed a pillow from the opposite end of the couch, hugged it to her and then sat down. "I can't believe it." She said somewhat to herself. "At my age, and wedded bliss is just a game." She played with the edging on the pillow.

"Mac, we're not that old."

"Easy for you to say. You're a man."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that men have it a lot easier. They can marry whenever they want, have kids whenever they want…age isn't a factor like it is for women. Nobody's going to look at you like an old spinster in five years if you're not settling down."

"In five years if I'm not in a relationship, then I'll be having a baby with you." He couldn't believe that he'd said it, so he smiled in apprehension.

Her smile in return was a relief. She rested her head on the back of the couch, drawing her legs up beside her. "Ah, the baby deal." She laughed. "What were we thinking?"

He laughed. "It is kind of forward, isn't it?"

She laughed again. "Have you told anybody? About that, I mean?"

"Nope. You?"

She shook her head. "Not even Harriet."

"They'd all think we're crazy."

"They already think we're crazy."

"This is true."

They sat in comfortable silence, enjoying the chance to talk like old friends.

"I wonder what will happen." She finally broke the silence.

"Happen, when?"

"In the future. I wonder if I'll ever be…happy."

"You're not happy now?"

"Yeah, I'm happy. I just wonder if I'll ever have the whole package." She took a deep breath. "It's not exactly like I came from the Cleaver family. What if—"

"Don't even go there." He reached his hand across the back of the couch to touch hers. "You are not your mother, and you're not your father."

"I know. But it's still kind of scary. Sometimes I don't trust my own choices. Just when I think I should know better, I do something stupid and then it's all a big waste of time."

"Was Mic a waste of time?" He let go of her hand.

"No, he wasn't."

Her words stung. Especially when her response was so immediate.

"I learned from that relationship, brief as it was."

"What did you learn, who to avoid?"

He tried to make a joke.

"Mic was a good man, Harm. He was ready to give it all up for me. A lot of women would have jumped at the chance."

"So why didn't you?"

"I don't know. I guess it felt like the right words coming from the wrong man."

He wasn't sure what to say. "I'm glad you didn't settle."

She laughed again. "I can't imagine you coming to my wedding if I married Mic."

He groaned for effect. "I'm not sure I could have."

They had never discussed things like this with such ease. The comfort level was refreshing.

"Harmon Rabb. You're supposed to be my best friend! You'd better be at my wedding."

He shot her a stare. "I was today."

"Yeah, but that was different. It was all a big act, and besides, you were the groom."

"What can I say? I like to be top dog." He smiled again.

"That you do." She smiled and then paused. "Have you ever been close to getting married? I mean, besides with Diane?"

"Nope. Not even with her." He propped his feet up on the coffee table as if settling in for an all-night discussion.

"No hesitation, wow. You mean that you and Diane never talked about marriage?"

"She did. A little."

"But…"

"I don't know. I've always felt guilty about it."

"About what?"

"About the fact that she died and I wasn't what she thought I was."

Mac was curious. This was definitely new territory. "Guilty?" She didn't want to seem over-excited, but the fact that he was revealing this much about his past, his emotions was a big step for him.

"I guess it's like you said. The right words from the wrong person. Besides, I was young."

"Harm, she was the love of your life."

He sat in silence for what seemed like forever.

"No, she wasn't. That's why I have so much guilt."

This time she reached her hand across the back of the couch to touch his.

"You shouldn't feel guilty, Harm. It's like you said. You were young."

"I know. But it's not like people that age are incapable of love."

"Not incapable. But think of what your life would be like if you had married her then. Trust me. Marrying young is _not_ a good idea."

"Mac, you learned from your mistakes."

"Did I?"

"Of course you did. How can you even say that?"

She propped her head up on her hand. There was another long silence.

"Dalton."

"Mac, Dalton's death was not your fault."

She laughed sarcastically. "Harm, he was a jerk from the beginning. I should have seen it."

"Okay, maybe…but his death was not your fault. You tried to end things."

"I just feel so stupid for putting myself in that position again. Especially after Chris. I mean, how many mistakes do I have to make before I finally get it right?"

"'Bout two, I'd say."

She was confused. "Two, why do you say that? Mic didn't work out either."

"No, but you said that you learned from that relationship. And…annoying as he was, he treated you well. So the way I see it…and I can't believe I'm about to say this…you're making progress."

She sat up straight again. "Harmon Rabb, that is perhaps the nicest thing that you've ever said to me. Maybe I should call Mic and tell him that you've had a change of heart…"

"Oh no, I didn't say that I _liked_ the guy. Don't get me wrong. He was an _ass_."

Mac was laughing. "But because he treated me well, you were able to tolerate him? How big of you, Rabb."

"Yes, I like to think so." He smiled, and she immediately threw her pillow at him with force.

"Harm, I was joking. You didn't tolerate him at all! In fact, you were insufferably rude!"

"I was not."

"Oh yeah? You sabotaged him in court, you openly criticized him in front of our coworkers, you insulted his work ethic in front of the Admiral, you—"

"Okay, okay. So maybe I wasn't very…welcoming. But I'm glad he's gone. He just wasn't right."

"Right, for me?"

"Yeah. Or for our office. Or our country."

"He was not that bad! You act like he was evil. On the contrary, he was very friendly. Even when you treated him so horribly. He never held a grudge."

Silence. "I will never understand you, Harm."

This time he was confused. "What do you mean?"

"You. You're really not supportive of my relationships, you know."

The laughter subsided. He didn't know what to say. He knew what he wanted to say, but couldn't find the words.

Sensing the conflict, she decided to break the mood and stood to stretch.

"What are you doing?" He didn't want her to leave.

She walked over to the sliding glass doors and opened them up. Leaning against the balcony railing, her dress fluttered in the slight wind.

He joined her and leaned forward on the railing. She was beautiful. Their talk had been surprisingly painless, despite the level of honesty. It made her even more attractive.

"Do you see that, out there? That strip of moonlight on the water?"

"Yes…"

She smiled, feeling brave. She grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the room. "Come on. Let's go swimming."


	7. Chapter 7

Harm hadn't seen her this happy in a long, long time. She was almost giggling as she reached for the bottom of her long T-shirt, the only thing shielding his view from her in one of the swimsuits that he had seen in her suitcase.

He stood, frozen in place as she threw the shirt on the sand and tiptoed into the water, assuming that he was right behind.

"The water's warm!" She exclaimed. She waded out about waist deep before turning around to see that he hadn't moved.

"Aren't you coming in?" She smiled, splashing water over her shoulders and arms. "You're a squid, remember?"

He had a blank look on his face. He smoothed the surface of his face with one hand as if contemplating something important.

"Harm, what is it? What's wrong?"

He stared at her now, his hands resting on his hips. She was more beautiful than he had ever seen her. She was standing in the moonlight, in a bright blue swimming suit, looking better than any model ever could. And it wasn't just her outer beauty. Their professional and personal life flashed before his eyes; the last seven years of fighting, working, sharing, investigating, confiding…she was all that he ever wanted in life and in that moment it became perfectly clear.

"Harm?" She walked slowly towards him until he put up a hand to stop her from coming any closer.

"Don't, Mac. I can't."

"You can't? What, swim?" She was thoroughly confused.

He could tell that his emotions were about to spill over. Heaven help him, he couldn't control himself any longer and just hoped that she was ready.

He laughed and looked down at his feet before pacing back and forth a short distance.

"No, Mac. It's not about swimming. It's about you." He took a deep breath. "Us."

The waves came slowly crashing in around her, and all she could do was to stand there, wondering what had Harm so perplexed.

"I don't understand."

"Well, let me spell it out for you, okay? This…this is not going to work." He motioned between them with his hand. "I can't do it."

She felt rejected for some reason, although she had no idea why. She hadn't propositioned him, they had just had an intimate conversation in the room, and she thought that their friendship was getting back on track.

He could see the hurt in her eyes. Taking a couple of steps into the water, he stopped just short of where she stood.

"I'm sorry, Mac, but I can't keep pretending like this doesn't affect me. Because it does. Seeing you…like this…I'm only human. I'm sorry."

Suddenly she felt naked, like she should cover herself, but all she could do was to fold her arms in front of her as if she were cold.

"You're saying that…what, Harm, that you're attracted to me?"

He looked at her as if she had nine heads. "Attracted? Mac, _attracted _to you? Attracted to you is what I've been for seven years. This—this is different. I can't stand here, in front of you looking all hot and…wet…and be a gentleman, okay? I can't do it! Maybe this whole assignment was a bad idea. I mean, I thought that I could handle it. That it might even be fun. But this--" he motioned between them again, "this is _any_thing but fun."

"Harm, I'm…I don't know what to say. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give you the wrong impression. I packed clothes that seemed suitable for a honeymoon. I can go back—" she started to walk out of the water.

"Mac, you're not getting it." His frustration was building. "It's not _just _the swimsuit and the moonlight and the water. It wasn't _just_ looking into your eyes at the chapel. It wasn't _just_ seeing you in that dress, and _enjoying_ your hands on me at dinner. It's not _just_ the fact that I feel proud to walk into a room with you, _or_ the fact that I can't talk to anybody like I can talk to you. It's all of those things, Mac. It's the fact that you pick the mushrooms off of your pizza and give them to me. It's the way you walk into a courtroom. It's the way you smile when I annoy you. It's the way I feel when you're not around. And it's why I acted like an ass when you were with Brumby, okay? " He took a deep breath before continuing.

"The comment that I made to Sturgis…he had been on my case for being so rude to you. I didn't want him to know how I feel, so I made something up to make him think that I didn't care. Instead, you got hurt. You have to believe me, Mac. I never meant what I said. Any man would be lucky to have you, and the truth is, dead is what I feel when I look at you…and realize that I can't have you."

Mac was utterly speechless. She didn't know what to do. Part of her felt like crying, part of her was elated, but the emotions were at war and she was too stunned to process any of it.

She rubbed her hands over her own arms as if looking for something to do. He never took his eyes off of her.

"So, there you have it. I'll uh, I'll apologize to Webb and make arrangements to leave first thing in the morning. I'm sorry." He started to walk away when she finally spoke.

"Wait."

He wasn't ashamed for admitting the truth, but he didn't want her to be angry or to think that their friendship was meaningless, either.

"So what you just said to me was that, you're attracted to me and that you can't stand seeing me with other men?"

He nodded.

"And that's because…you…have genuine feelings for me?"

He nodded again, looking out over the water.

"And the wedding earlier…you enjoyed that?"

"I did Mac. It's why I told Laurie June to do it at the chapel instead of the courthouse. It's why I had your favorite flowers there and it's why—" he looked at the ring on her finger, "it's why I gave you my grandma's ring."

Mac's eyes just about popped out of her head. She looked down at the ring, admiring it all over again. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.

"I know. It's crazy." He ran his fingers through his hair. "You probably think I'm a psycho, or something. I wanted to tell you how I feel, but I didn't want to jeopardize our friendship. When Webb told me about this, I jumped at the chance. And, I guess I got a little carried away."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know what else to say except that I'm sorry." He paused again. "Except that really, I'm not sorry. I would probably do it all over again if I had the chance."

He laughed in embarrassment. "I can't _believe_ I just admitted all that."

Her attraction to him multiplied ten-fold since he had exposed his true feelings. The great Harmon Rabb was vulnerable, and only with her.

"Come here." It was just above a whisper.

"Mac, I'm telling you that I can't. I can't be near you right now, because frankly, I don't think I can keep it together."

She took another step toward him, and pulled him by both hands so that he was standing only inches in front of her. She placed his hands on her hips, and rested hers gently on his shoulders. He tried to look away.

"Mac…"

"Harm," she breathed seductively as she made him look at her. "thank you."

"Mac," he tried to pull away, "you're not going to be thanking me in about five seconds if we don't put some space betw—"

Her mouth claimed his before he could finish the sentence. The kiss grew furious quickly, as his hands pulled her forcefully to him. She hung on to his neck with all that she had, each letting out soft moans of approval. The kiss continued. They were hungry, needy and ready to explore.

"Are you…" he tried to hear verbal affirmation, even though his nerves were screaming. "sure?"

"Mmm-hmm." She muttered, unwilling to break contact.

They briefly lost their balance, and found themselves shoulder-deep in the water. His hands impatiently explored her back, shoulders and the backs of her legs. Without thinking, he reached up to untie the top of her suit. She wasn't fazed. Instead, she explored his skin with equal need, ravenous for the touch that had long been forbidden. They drew closer together, frustrated by even the slightest distance, finally annoyed by the confinement of the water.

They broke for air, never taking their hands off of one another. He looked her over as if making sure she hadn't broken, that she was indeed still there. She smiled, leaning forward to plant a trail of wet kisses from his shoulder to his ear.

"Harm?" She muttered between kisses. "I know you're Navy and all, but this water is starting to get on my nerves." She continued her assault behind his ear lobe and down the front of his neck, her hands placed flat in front of her on his chest.

He smiled, clasping the back of her hair and burrowing inside to kiss every inch of her neck that he could possibly reach.

"Lead the way, Marine." He breathed between kisses.

She leaned her head back in approval and smiled as she allowed him further access to her skin. He turned her around so that her back was to him, his hands free to explore her now bare front.

"Um, Harm?"

"Hmm?" he would not let up.

"Where's my top?"

"Dunno."

She laughed and turned around to face him once more, distancing herself as she slowly took steps backwards toward the shore. His eyes grew wide as he realized that she was slowly exposing her topless body.

"I guess I'll just have to—"

"Mac, no!" He rushed forward to cover her body with his. "You can't—"

She leaned down to pick up her T-shirt and smiled. "I guess I'll just have to wear my T-shirt back up to the room."

She lifted her arms to pull the gray T-shirt over her head and for the first time he saw more of her body as he only had in his dreams.

He pulled her quickly to him, kissing her slowly. "You're so beautiful." He whispered.

As unashamed as she had been only moments prior, it was his words that made her blush. She reached up to cup his face in her hands. "Thank you." She whispered before delivering her own soft, affirming kiss.

He wrapped his arm protectively around her, pulling her close as they walked back to the room.


	8. Chapter 8

More of the same...with a slight twist up ahead. Reviews are motivating. Thank you!

* * *

They were awakened by the shrill ring of Harm's cell phone. Harm fumbled around on the nightstand to find it before groggily answering.

"Hello? Yeah, just waking up. Why, what time is it?" He turned the clock towards him. "Oh. I didn't realize…"

Mac stirred in her sleep, realizing where she was, who she was with and what had happened the night before. Slightly nervous about what Harm would be thinking, she decided to lie still. She was relieved when he reached over to gently rub her back with his free hand. She smiled and realized that he must not be filled with regret. She tried not to drift off to sleep, but found it difficult to keep her eyes open.

Harm continued talking, and gently rubbing her back. "No. We talked about it. Why, do you think today is a good day? That's fine. I know. What about you, will you be there?" He listened to the voice on the other end. "Mmm-hmm. Mmm-hmm. No, I don't think so, but it's still early. Okay, well maybe it's not that early…very funny. Alright. I'll be in touch."

He snapped the phone shut without saying goodbye. He tossed it on the table and moved in closer to Mac's still form. He pulled her close and planted a kiss on her shoulder. "Are you awake?"

"I'm thinking about it." She smiled, pulling his arm in front of her and placing a kiss on the back of his hand.

"How are you feeling?" The smile was evident in his voice.

She giggled. "I'm feeling fine, thank you. And what about you? How are you feeling this morning?"

She released his hand so that she could turn to face him. Even with bed head, the man was stunning.

"Well, besides being so rudely awakened by our friend the spook, I'm doing quite well, thank you." He pulled her close again so that their bodies were flush. She traced circles on his chest, waiting for him to continue.

They were silent for a moment, even though they knew what the other was thinking.

"Harm?"

"Hmm?"

"Any regrets?" She was the first to break the ice.

He pulled back slightly so that he could see her better.

"You mean do I regret baring my soul to you last night and confessing that I have longed for you in my dreams for about seven years now?"

She laughed again. "That's not exactly what you said."

"No, but it's true. If I'm going to be an open book, I might as well tell you, that I have imagined this very moment in my head no less than 5,000 times."

"You have not." She smiled. It made her feel good to know that he had wanted her, had been patient and had remained a good friend through it all.

"Oh, but I have."

"And is this anything like you imagined?"

"Nope. It's better. Way better."

"You're just saying that."

"No, I'm not. I was always afraid that you would regret it, or that we would no longer be friends, or something along those lines."

"And now?"

"Well, I can't speak for you, but this just sort of seals the deal. I always knew that I wanted you." He stroked his fingers through her hair, examining it, appreciating her every feature. "It was just a matter of timing."

"Did you always assume that I felt the same?"

"No. That's why I was so scared when you were with Mic. I thought maybe I'd lose you before I had the chance to tell you how I felt."

There was another pause.

"Did you? Feel the same, I mean?" He asked.

There had been little verbal communication the night before. They had hungrily explored one another, furiously joining together as if their lives depended on it.

Later, when they were more subdued, they were able to take their time and to fuse the physical and emotional bond with more patience. He had been generous, taking his time and accommodating her, gentle with his touch and visibly affected by her touching him. He was in control, but not. It was clear that she held the power to expose his vulnerabilities, and she was grateful for his trust.

"Well, I don't want to spill all of my secrets, but I guess in the back of my mind I felt like we were drawn together for a reason, like something more permanent may evolve."

She looked up at him, waiting for his response.

"That's it?"

He pulled back and propped himself up on his elbow. "I tell you that I've fantasized about you, I've wanted you, I was excited to stage a fake wedding to you, I admitted that I can't look at you without wanting to devour you, and all I get is 'I thought we may be drawn together'?"

She smiled. He was right. She had said very little.

"Now, what fun would it be if I were an open book? We have to keep some of the mystery alive, don't we?"

She scooted forward and began an assault of kisses on the front of his chest and made her way around to his sides and up his neck. She pulled the sheets up over her and straddled his waist.

"You're trying to…distract…me."

"Mmm-hmm." She continued kissing him lightly wherever she felt the need.

"You know that's not fair. I want to know what you've thought about me all these years. If you were wildly attracted to me, if you dreamed about me when I walked into the office…"

She let out a small laugh. "Harm, I think enough women have stroked your ego through the years for you to know that you're a very desirable man."

He quickly flipped her over onto her back, and pinned her wrists loosely above her head. His eyes grew dark and serious.

"I don't care about what other women think."

Instead of waiting for an answer, his mouth came crashing down onto hers, claiming it with the same intensity as the night before. He was hungry for her again, almost feral in his need. Her response was immediate, flipping him over onto his back to regain control. The words may not have been spoken, but in her eyes he saw the truth.


	9. Chapter 9

"So, what did Webb want?" She asked as they lay tangled together in the sheets.

Harm looked at the clock. "He wants me to meet up with Sanchez soon. I think he's getting impatient."

"Okay, I'll get dressed. When do we leave?"

"Webb wants me to go alone."

She sat up and looked at him. "Why?"

"I guess because he thinks you'll be a distraction. I don't know."

"What? Why would he think that? I was asked to come down here for a reason, too, wasn't I?"

"Yeah, probably so Webb could try to impress you." He stood from the bed and headed toward the shower.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not sure I like the idea of you going alone." She yelled over the sound of the running water.

"It won't take long, I'm sure."

"Will Webb be there as back up?" There was silence. "You're right. Never mind. Now I _am_ worried."

He came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and began searching for his clothes. "I'll be fine. Sanchez doesn't really intimidate me."

"Me neither, but what if we're wrong about him?" She pulled her legs up to her and hugged her knees as she sat in the middle of the bed.

When he came back out, he had a toothbrush in his mouth and was wearing pants and an unbuttoned shirt. "I'll call if I run into any problems. Promise." It was difficult to understand him due to the amount of toothpaste in his mouth.

"So what am I supposed to do, just sit by the pool like a good little wife?"

He walked to the edge of the bed and sat down, buttoning the last button on his tan linen shirt. He smiled and playfully rubbed noses with her.

"Why yes, muffin. That would be nice. Have a drink waiting for me too, if you would."

She slapped him on the arm. "I'm serious. And don't call me 'muffin'."

He leaned in for a quick kiss. "Mac, it'll be fine. I'll be back here in no time."

He stood to leave, but didn't get far when she reached for his hand and pulled him back down.

"Call me."

"I will." He reached up to brush her hair behind her ear.

They sat in silence for a few moments. He looked at her left hand resting on her knees.

"It looks good on you."

She looked at the ring and smiled.

"I like it too."

He started to say something else but changed his mind. Instead he kissed her on the cheek and grabbed his phone.

"I'll meet you by the pool."

The door opened and closed before she could say, "Be careful."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She looked at her phone for the third time in ten minutes. It had been two hours since Harm left, and she was beginning to feel uneasy.

"What's the matter, Sarah, water too cold?"

She looked up to see Webb removing his sunglasses and making himself comfortable on the chair next to hers. Her immediate reaction was to pull a towel up over her body.

"Water's great, Webb. Just wondering how the little business meeting is going that you arranged."

"Relax. I'm sure it's fine. I've got my best men on surveillance."

She sat up straight in her chair. "Why aren't you there? Or better yet, why wouldn't you let me go?"

He laughed and accepted a fruity drink from the pool's waiter.

"Sarah. Have a little more faith in the guy. He knows how to hold his own."

"It's not him that I'm worried about." She snapped.

Just then his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID before answering.

"Yeah." He looked directly at Sarah. "When?" He looked away from her. "Where?" His voice was agitated. "On my way."

He ended the call and set his drink on the ground. "Get dressed."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Harm could hear voices in the distance. He tried to open his eyes but felt as though his head would split in two if he did. He felt tight pressure on his upper arm and realized that someone must have been taking his blood pressure. Piecing together the events of the morning, he realized that he needed to get in touch with Mac.

He tried to sit up, but found it too difficult to move. When he was finally able to squint, he looked toward the sound of the voices and saw Mac talking to Webb in what appeared to be a heated discussion.

He groaned, prompting her to rush to his side.

"Hey." The concern was evident on her face. She stroked his forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit in the head with a pipe."

"In all likelihood, you did. Can you tell us what happened?"

Webb stepped closer to the bed, much to Harm's disgust.

"Fine time for you to show up."

"Rabb. What the hell happened?"

Harm rubbed his forehead as the nurse removed the blood pressure cuff and fluffed the pillow behind his head before stepping out of the room.

Mac glared at Webb before urging Harm to continue. He struggled at first, but then remembered.

"I pulled up to the store, and no one was inside. I waited and called for Sanchez, but when he didn't come, I started to look around. I could see a door open in the back, so I went to check it out."

He closed his eyes tightly as if squeezing the pain away.

"That's when I saw him."

"Saw who?" Mac asked.

"Sanchez. He was dead."

She looked at Webb as if to say, "I told you so," and then turned back to Harm.

"Well the good news is that you're going to be fine. The doctor should be in a few minutes, but they don't think it's anything too serious." She held his hand in hers.

Webb walked over to the corner to make a phone call. Just then the doctor entered and flipped open the chart.

"Mr. Stanton, I presume?"

Mac looked at Harm, who was now sound asleep.

"He was awake for a few minutes." She stood beside the bed to talk with the doctor.

"Well, the X-rays are all negative. I'll send him home with some pain medication, and he needs lots of rest, but will otherwise be fine."

"Good, thank you." Mac smiled, looking back at Harm.

"Are you the spouse?" The doctor asked, reaching for a pen.

"Yes, I am."

He flipped a paper back behind the clipboard and marked an x.

She reached for the pen, but he stopped her.

"I'm sorry, but I must ask if you have proof of identity. New hospital regulations."

"Oh. I see." Mac realized that in the hurry to leave, she had not grabbed her purse.

Webb ended his phone conversation and moved to where they stood. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out two pieces of paper. "Here," he handed the doctor one of the papers, "this should do."

It looked like some sort of certificate from what Mac could tell.

The doctor looked confused. "Rabb? Harmon and Sarah Rabb?"

Webb's face went pale. He snatched the paper from the doctor and immediately handed him the other.

"Ah, I see. Stanton. Jack and Sarah Stanton, newly married? Congratulations. If I could just see Mr. Stanton's identification, I will let you sign for him." The doctor handed her the pen.

She signed her name, thanked him for his help and told him goodbye. When she noticed Webb trying to sneak out with the doctor, she grabbed him by the collar.

"Oh no you don't. You've got some explaining to do. _Now_."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Let me just say that this really isn't the direction that I wanted to take in my head, but I didn't want a verbal skewering by those of you who have been so loyal to read and kindly review this story. That being said, the plot is about to get even lighter and even more unrealistic! ;-) Bear with me.

* * *

"Where is Mac?" Harm asked as he tried to adjust his eyes to the surroundings of a hospital room, more than a little disappointed to see Webb staring back at him.

"She's gone." He replied.

"Gone, what do you mean, _gone_?" Harm had a sinking feeling that she hadn't just stepped out of the room.

"Look, why don't you get dressed. I'll explain on the way back to the hotel."

Harm tried to move quickly, although his throbbing headache made any movement difficult. "Webb, so help me God, if you screwed this up again, I will throw your six into a tank full of piranhas and I won't look back."

"Get dressed, Rabb. You're in no shape to be making threats."

Harm dressed himself slowly, disappointed that Mac wasn't there to help. The last person in the world that he needed to see was Webb. He needed comfort, not a bigger headache.

"Let me out." Harm demanded as they pulled up to the hotel. He opened the car door and slammed it hard. "You will pay for this, Webb. Mark my words."

Webb drove off, seemingly unaffected by the latest threat. As Harm made his way through the lobby, the front desk clerk called after him.

"Mr. Stanton, a package has arrived for you."

Harm took the yellow envelope and walked slowly to the elevator. The package was from Laurie June. Harm knew that the wedding photos had to be enclosed. As much as he wanted to see them, he had to know if Mac was still in the room.

He slid the key into the door and walked in to a dark room. "Mac?" He called out. "Mac!" He looked around frantically to no reply. And then he saw it—her wedding ring sitting on the middle of the bed. "Damnit." He said to himself. "_Damnit!_"

His head throbbed in pain, but he knew that he hadn't been asleep in the hospital room for very long and wondered if maybe she was still on the premises. He ran out of the room and made his way quickly out of the lobby, looking to his left and to his right. He would have seen her when he and Webb pulled up, unless by some slim chance they had passed one another on opposite elevators. He looked up one street and down another. Taxis weaved in and out of traffic creating a blinding sea of yellow.

"Damnit!" He yelled to no one, grabbing his head in pain. He scanned the streets one last time and then he saw her, waiting as a cab driver loaded her luggage into the trunk. He darted across the street and to his left, dodging cars like a madman. "Mac!" He yelled. "Mac, wait!"

The cab driver closed the trunk and made his way to the passenger door to open it for her. She looked up to see Harm, yelling and running towards her. When he finally reached her, his face grimaced in pain and he was out of breath.

"Mac—wait." He tried to catch his breath. "Don't go. Please."

She wanted to get in the cab and drive off, but couldn't bring herself to do it.

"Harm, go get some rest. There's nothing left for us to say."

"What? What do you mean? You can't just leave me like this." His breathing was still labored.

She looked incredulous. "_Excuse_ me?"

"Don't you think we should talk about this?"

The cab driver lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. His customer didn't appear to be leaving any time soon.

"Talk about what, Harm? You deceived me. You _lied_ to me. Enough said."

He bent over in an effort to slow his breathing, steadying himself with his hands on his knees. Her last statement confused him.

"What? What do you mean, I lied to you?"

"Don't play dumb, Sailor. It doesn't suit you."

The cab driver smiled. This was getting interesting.

Harm looked genuinely confused. "Mac, I don't know what the hell you're talking about. I know that I took a pretty good hit on the head, but please explain to me how I lied."

She rolled her eyes, frustrated that she was about to bite.

"Harm, we're _married_. For real. It's not a joke!"

"I know!" He was losing patience.

"You signed the marriage certificate, Harm. You knew that our wedding was real!"

Harm leaned back against the cab, exhausted and in pain.

"_What_?" Now he looked incredulous. And she was thoroughly confused.

"What do you mean, _what_?" She demanded.

They stared at each other for a moment as the wheels began to turn in both of their minds.

Then they spoke at once, "What did Webb tell you?"


	11. Chapter 11

"Thanks for meeting me." Mac smiled as he pulled the chair out for her.

"No problem, Sarah. But I must say that I was surprised to get the call. I thought you were leaving the country."

"Well, the thought did cross my mind." She unfolded the napkin and placed it on her lap. She smiled as she looked over the menu. "But I don't like to leave a job before it's complete. I guess it's the marine in me."

"How can I help?"

"Well, you can tell me how we proceed."

He was surprised. "I don't understand."

"Sanchez. The assignment. I assume that his death has only created a whole new set of problems and I'm sure that you want to get to the bottom of it. You know, find out who was responsible."

He cleared his throat. There was a long pause as he set his menu down to examine her.

"Well, I appreciate the offer, but I don't want to complicate matters any further for you."

She sneered. "I don't see how things could be more complicated. In fact, now that Harm is out of the picture, we should be able to proceed without any interruptions." She took a drink from her water glass, never taking her eyes off of his.

"Is he? Out of the picture, I mean?"

She leaned forward on her elbows. "Any man that thinks he can trick me into marriage is not someone that can be trusted."

"But you two were so…close."

"We were friends, yes. Or at least I thought we were. He's never betrayed my trust like that." She shook her head, remembering the pain. "I don't think I can ever forgive him."

He smiled a half-hearted smile. "Sarah, I enjoy working with you. But I'm not sure that this assignment is going to last much longer."

"No? I would have thought that with yesterday's turn of events, you would have needed the help."

He smiled again, and leaned forward, placing his hands on the table, ever so close to hers. "I should be wrapping things up in the next day or so. Why don't you stick around for a few more days, maybe see the sights?"

"I'd like that."

They finished their meal, making small talk and sharing stories about work. When it was time to leave, he clearly didn't want the conversation to end.

"Do you need to leave so soon?"

"I'm afraid that I do. I really need a full night of sleep." She pulled her shawl up over her shoulders. "But thank you for meeting me. And please, keep in touch."

"I will, Sarah. Goodnight." He lifted her hand and drew it to his mouth.

She made sure that he did not follow her cab back to the hotel, making two completely unnecessary stops and walking the rest of the way back. When she finally made it back to the room, the door opened before she could reach for her key.

"Well?" He pulled her into the room and closed the door quickly behind her. "How did it go?"

She removed her shawl and placed it on the end of the bed. "You were right. Webb used us both."


	12. Chapter 12

Sorry! I admit that I was dragging my heels. I don't want to give Webb the attention that the storyline was beginning to demand. I think this is okay. Thank you for such kind reviews! More to follow. ;-)

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"I guess these came when I was gone?" Mac lifted the yellow envelope off of the table and sat down on the couch.

"Yeah. I haven't seen them yet. Was sort of in a hurry." He smiled.

She smiled back. "I'm glad you caught up with me."

"Are you?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know. I guess I just thought that maybe this changed things for you."

"In what way?"

He didn't want to ruin the momentum that they had built in the days prior, but this was uncharted territory. He looked down at his feet before sitting on the chair across from the couch. She wanted him to sit right next to her, but didn't object.

"Well, Mac the fact that we're married, for one. I mean…that sort of puts a spin on our already new relationship." He tried to smile.

"I guess it does." She pulled the photos from the envelope. "Do you want to see?" It was her way of inviting him over, closer to her. She could tell that he was trying to play it safe, although she wished that he wouldn't.

He stood from the chair and made his way over to where she sat. The conversation the night before hadn't been about much other than Webb. Harm's pain medicine quickly took effect, causing him to fall deeply asleep. She had watched him while he slept, run her fingers lightly over the red marks on his neck, thankful that he hadn't been injured worse, or even killed. Whatever Webb's motive was for bringing them along was vague at best. Harm had been right not to trust him.

"Wow, Laurie June really got caught up in the moment." She tried to snap herself back to the moment, looking at the first photo.

They continued thumbing through the photos, searching for the right words in response. When they came to the photo of the wedding kiss, she had to comment.

"I like that one."

"Me too. I couldn't wait to kiss you." He suddenly seemed like a shy school boy.

"Well, I was happy to oblige, even though I was a little confused."

"And now you're probably even more confused, aren't you?"

"Well, it's been quite an eventful few days. I don't exactly understand how Webb got the marriage license, I don't understand what role Bud and Harriet played in it all, or if they even knew what they were doing, and I don't understand how you managed to switch the location to the chapel, especially when you didn't think it was for real."

"You do believe me, don't you?" He took the stack of photos from her and set them on the table, then turned to face her.

"I do now. But Webb's version was pretty different. He had me convinced that you were behind the whole thing."

"That's what he wanted you to think, to make me look like the deceptive one. He knew that you would go berserk if anyone betrayed your trust like that."

She laid her head back on the couch.

"And then at the beach…you told me how you felt…"

"I don't regret that, Mac." He reached over to twirl a few strands of her hair with his fingers.

"So I guess now the question now is, what do we do about us?"

There was a brief silence.

"What do you want to do?"

She sat up and turned so that she was facing him, pulling one leg up in front of her on the cushion. He continued playing with her hair. He seemed lost in the moment, the look of longing still evident in his eyes. She took his right hand in hers, gently rubbing her thumb back and forth.

"I'm not sorry that we're a couple now."

"Me neither, but being a _married _couple, Mac…"

"Does that scare you?" She laughed a little. "The great Harmon Rabb, terminal bachelor extraordinaire is married and he didn't even know it." She laughed again.

He smiled. "I was never anti-marriage, Mac."

She raised an eyebrow as if in doubt.

"What? I told you it just never came up before because it wasn't the right person."

"And now?" She was fishing.

He moved his fingers from her hair to her chin, ever so lightly tracing the outline of her jaw.

"It feels pretty right to me."

She wanted to melt. If he was implying what she thought he was…

"Me too." She wove her fingers between his.

He looked at her, surprised. "Really? I mean, the marriage thing, even?"

She nodded her head, and began to lean in slowly toward him.

"Because I would totally understand if you're not okay with it. Just say the word, Mac, and we can get an annulment or—whatever—and I would understand."

She kept coming closer, smiling. His eyes grew wide when he realized how close she was, the response that her body was giving seemed to be in agreement with her words.

"Harm?"

"Mmm-hmm?"

"Kiss me."

She leaned up into him, planting her mouth on his. He welcomed the kiss, and like before, became hungry with need. He pulled her to him so that she was almost on his lap. The kiss continued, as did the exploration of his hands over her back.

Stopping for a moment, he had to be sure. "So, what you're saying is that you're okay with us being married?"

She bit her lower lip, trying to process the words that now sounded so official.

"I am." She nodded and smiled.

The smile that covered his face was enormous. He pulled her down onto him as he fell back on the couch. He held onto her neck with a firm grasp while his other hand made its way under her shirt and across her skin. She responded in kind, removing his shirt and throwing it on the floor. She straddled him now, looking down at the muscular chest that awaited her touch.

"You're my wife." He smiled.

"You're my husband." She whispered.

He reached up and began slowly unbuttoning the buttons on her white blouse. "Remind me—after I beat Webb to a bloody pulp—to thank him." He slid the blouse off of her arms and threw it over the back of the couch.

"Wait in line." She smiled as she covered his body once again.


	13. Chapter 13

Short and sweet this time. I hate it when I don't update as quickly as I would like, but sick kids have been a distraction! A chapter or 2 more will follow.

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"So, we're all clear on what we're going to do, right?" He leaned against the bathroom door, waiting for her to come out.

"Yep."

"And you're sure you don't want me to be there?"

"You will be."

They were talking between the sounds of the hairdryer, running water and makeup application.

"You know what I mean. Maybe the surprise effect would be better if we—"

She opened the bathroom door before he could finish his sentence, with her hands behind her neck holding two red straps. His eyes grew wide.

"Harm, we've gone over this a million times." She turned so that her back was to him. "Give me a hand?" She motioned for him to tie the back of her shirt.

"You're not serious…" He didn't move.

"What?" She flipped the straps again, waiting for him to oblige.

"Why are you wearing _that_?"

Realizing what he was trying to say, she turned to face him, allowing the straps to fall on her shoulders.

"Harm, it's a halter top. It's not a bikini top."

"Well it might as well be." He was looking her up and down. "I don't want him to think that he really has a chance."

"We both know that he doesn't."

"That's not what the shirt says."

"Harm, don't you think you're being a little bit unreasonable? I'm only going to be with the man for about an hour."

"That's about an hour too long." He turned her around and tied the straps into a tight knot. "I think there's some fabric missing on this shirt. It looks defective." He was trying to lighten the mood, but the thought of Webb's hands anywhere near was unbearable.

Even though jealousy was not an endearing trait, she appreciated his concern. She turned to face him again, and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

"I'll be fine. And this will be worth it in the end."

He said nothing, but had doubt written all over his face.

"You're not changing your mind, are you?"

"What? No. I just know Webb. What if he doesn't go for it?"

"He has to. He would be in deep with Kershaw if he ever found out about the liberties that Webb has been taking."

"I hope you're right."

"Come on, Harm. Have a little faith. This is the perfect solution to our problem." She pulled him into a hug before walking to the door.

"I hope you're right." He muttered to himself.

The hour seemed to drag by slowly. He was to meet them on the pier. Mac was to have laid the ground work, and Harm was to show up as support to seal the deal.

When he saw them on the bench, he could tell that Webb was not amused.

Mac seemed to be holding her own, but he felt much better being there to be sure.

"Rabb." Webb said flatly when Harm came into view.

Mac stood to greet him with a kiss. "I was just filling Webb in about the phone call that he needs to make." She pulled the cell phone from her purse and began dialing.

Webb scowled and started to protest.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Mac chirped. "I think it's a little late to object. Unless of course you want Kershaw to find out that Sanchez was an innocent victim in this lame plot of yours."

She smiled and handed the phone to Webb.

Begrudgingly, he took it and placed it up to his ear. "Yes, Clayton Webb here. I need to speak with the Admiral."


	14. Chapter 14

One month later 

Taking her in with his eyes had not lost its effect. For years he had watched her, memorized her every move and feature; had wondered what it would be like to taste the skin that hid beneath the dull green uniform. Now as she tilted her neck, allowing him access yet again, he was electrified by her scent and the feel of her soft skin against his lips.

She wished she were immune to his touch, the feel of his warm breath on her neck and his lips on the sensitive spot just behind her ear. In the last month of togetherness, nothing had changed. She was drawn to him, taken in by his touch and the idea that he now belonged to her, that no part of him was off-limits. One would have assumed that the excitement would have run its course, that once the mystery was over, so would be the passion.

"Harm," She whispered.

"Hmm?" He continued his assault, backing her up against the door, unfazed by their surroundings.

"They're waiting for us." She tried to push him away, but instead found herself pulling him closer, finding his mouth and fusing hers to it.

The kiss grew in intensity as the thousands of others before it, bringing with it a sense of urgency. The word control now had no meaning. For years the uniforms were worn as an identity, an announcement to the world that behind them were dutiful, capable and honorable human beings. While their sense of service had not waivered, the need to focus so heavily on career no longer existed. Life was the person in front of them, the warm body in the mornings and the soul for which theirs longed.

It was only the sound of voices emerging from the other side of the door that caused them to stop, to take a breath and to realize again why they were there. Breathing heavily, they stared into one another's eyes, searching for an answer: Stay or go?

The voices came closer, and she looked down in disappointment. He was obviously annoyed. She wiped the corner of her mouth and looked up to straighten his tie.

"They mean well." She smiled.

He nodded.

"Come on." She took him by the hand. "This is important to them."

He let out a long, purposeful sigh. "How long do we have to stay?"

She gave him a look that said, "Be nice."

They opened the door to a room full of co-workers and friends. The small crowd met them with applause, their first official acknowledgement of the union that in their minds, was long overdue.

There was music. There was dancing. There were finger sandwiches and mingling and laughter, but he didn't care. It was all a barrier to his desire, his need to be near her and to touch her at will.

She felt it. She always did; his stare from across the room. Their eyes met above the goblets held up for a simultaneous drink, a menial gesture intended to distract, to occupy their senses for the time being.

Unbeknownst to them both, he saw it all. He too had grown accustomed to the stares, the silent need that hung heavily in the air. An unassuming spectator at the dance, he decided to finally step in.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention." His voice bellowed across the room. "A final toast, if I may." The Admiral raised his glass and looked at Harm and then over at Mac.

"People keep asking me how bizarre this situation is to me: Two of my finest officers, called away on a CIA assignment that, as usual, went awry, ending up married without even knowing it, then ultimately deciding to remain husband and wife, inform their commanding officer by convincing a spook, of all people, to spill the beans."

There was laughter from the group. When worded that way, it sounded completely absurd, even to Harm and Mac.

The Admiral cleared his throat before continuing. "I simply tell them, it doesn't surprise me at all. Nothing about these two, frankly, could surprise me. Here," he motioned to Harm, "we have a man that has sprayed bullets in the courtroom." And "Here," he motioned to Mac, "is a woman that pulled him into a helicopter on their first assignment in the middle of nowhere, after a successful attempt to save the Declaration of Independence."

Everyone laughed again.

"Harm, Mac, I speak for everyone in this room when I say thank you. Thank you for keeping our lives interesting, thank you for your contribution to our nation, and most of all, thank you for finally allowing us some peace and quite in the office. There's nothing worse than a Marine scorned and a jet jock with a wounded ego. May happiness find you…wherever the hell you two end up."

Glasses were raised and hugs were given. Mac was intently trying to pay attention to Harriet talk about the color for the nursery when she felt his hand on her back.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you two." He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. "But I think that we need to call it a night."

Mac was grateful for the chance to leave. She thanked Harriet again and made plans for lunch. They made their way around the room as quickly as possible in an effort to say goodbye without giving the appearance of hormonally charged teens.

When the finally made it out the door, he pulled her quickly into the adjoining hallway and pinned her against the wall. He lifted her chin and held it in place as he delivered a slow and deliberate kiss. She was speechless. Meeting him need for need, touch for touch was one thing, but the sincerity and the tenderness that he shared on occasion was overpowering.

When he finally broke contact, he cupped the back of her head in his hand and leaned his forehead against hers.

He was silent for several moments, searching her eyes for what she did not know.

Finally, he spoke, but in a whisper. "I love you Sarah."

The statement, oddly enough, had yet to be spoken. Passion had overtaken the need for words, for affirmation in their weeks as a couple. It was a given, a silent assumption, that until now, she didn't think she needed to hear. And yet in that moment, emotion took over and she felt as though she would melt.

"I love you too." She whispered, reaching up to caress his cheek. "So much."

He smiled and reached for her hand. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

She smiled and followed him out to the car. He opened the passenger door for her, and leaned in for another kiss. "Your place or mine?"

She smiled. "You know the drill. Whichever place is closest."

He went around to the driver's side and got in. "We're really going to have to talk about these living arrangements soon."

"I know." She reached across to run her fingers through the back of his hair as he drove.

"What do you think? Keep one of our apartments? Start all over?"

"I think…" she leaned across to plant a barely-there kiss on the inside of his neck. "…that right now…" she continued moving her way around his neck. "…I really don't…care."

His breathing quickly became labored.

"Mac, you know I can't drive when you do that."

"Mmm-hmm…" She pretended not to hear him and reached up to loosen his tie.

"Maaaac…"

"Hmm?" She began to unbutton the top few buttons of his shirt.

"You're going to be the death of me, you know that?" He didn't think about the significance of his comment. He was drowning in desire and unable to focus.

She stopped and moved away.

"What? Mac, what is it?" He reached across and grabbed her by the hand.

She looked out the window at the passing scenery.

"You once said that anyone that's ever been involved with me is either dead or feels like they are."

"Mac, I told you that I didn't mean that." He squeezed her hand. "I thought you believed me."

"I do." She looked over at him and smiled, leaning her head back on the seat. "I just hope you weren't right." She reached over again and caressed his cheek. "I don't know what I would do—"

"Mac, stop it. You're not going to lose me, okay? If I die when I'm with you, then I guarantee that the scenario will involve very little clothing, difficulty breathing and numbness in the extremities."

They both laughed.

"Oh, so you've actually thought this through, have you?"

They pulled up to his parking lot and walked into the apartment building.

"Not until last night, when you—"

"Harm, stop it!" She playfully smacked him on the arm, looking around to see if anyone overheard.

He pulled her close as they stepped onto the elevator.

"Your tie's a little messy there, Sailor. And this shirt…it's wrinkled." She said as she completely loosened the tie.

"You'll have to talk to my wife about that. I can't get her to iron." He smiled leaning in for a kiss.

The elevator squealed and came to a sudden stop on his floor. "Mmm." She returned the kiss. "She sounds like a real loser." Her hands made their way down his shirt, unbuttoning one button at a time.

Their walk was staggered down the hall to his door. Between kisses, he muttered, "Nah, what she lacks in the household department, she makes up for…in other areas."

She smiled and pulled his shirt out of the waistband. "Ah, so it sounds like you'll keep her around for awhile."

The door to the apartment was finally open. He threw his shirt across the room and closed the door with his foot. He reached out to her and pulled her close again before she could get too far away.

"Forever." He breathed. "I'm keeping her forever."


End file.
